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Zeke Avienore
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15
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5'2"
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98 lbs
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Zeke is friendly and polite, and primarily expresses himself through the things he loves, namely math or astronomy. He is psychosematically mute, but is a superb listener and enjoys solving problems, whether they be personal or scientific; however, a lot of this is merely a façade. Manipulative, cunning, and relentlessly sadistic, Zeke cares more about his own goals than the people around him, though tries to make sure that no one learns this about him.
Curiosity is his primary motivator, and as such most of what Zeke does is an attempt to answer some outlandish "what if" question. Once one question is answered, it's on to the next, or sometimes it's on to the next before the first one was addressed to begin with. Pale blue eyes often somewhere else, Zeke lives mostly in his own head and can sometimes be painfully oblivious to his surroundings. He is also meticulously perfectionistic, which translates to inefficient time management as he wastes startling amounts of time on the little nuances that, in the end, don't make a difference.
Zeke holds intellect at highest esteem. He tends to push aside his own emotions, believing them to be counterproductive, and thus has difficulty understanding and handling them. He also has a disconcerting number of bad habits, generally in regards to maintaining his health and personal wellness. When under stress, he frequently touches his nose or otherwise rubs his face.
Curiosity is his primary motivator, and as such most of what Zeke does is an attempt to answer some outlandish "what if" question. Once one question is answered, it's on to the next, or sometimes it's on to the next before the first one was addressed to begin with. Pale blue eyes often somewhere else, Zeke lives mostly in his own head and can sometimes be painfully oblivious to his surroundings. He is also meticulously perfectionistic, which translates to inefficient time management as he wastes startling amounts of time on the little nuances that, in the end, don't make a difference.
Zeke holds intellect at highest esteem. He tends to push aside his own emotions, believing them to be counterproductive, and thus has difficulty understanding and handling them. He also has a disconcerting number of bad habits, generally in regards to maintaining his health and personal wellness. When under stress, he frequently touches his nose or otherwise rubs his face.
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Zeke always had a problem with authority. He failed all his classes because he didn't want to acknowledge the teacher, he disobeyed his well-meaning parents even when it put him directly in danger, and broke the law just because the existence of a rule implies the possibility of it breaking. It became a sort of game to see how far he could go without being caught, whether he was smarter than the police, and considering the state of things, he could go quite far.
When he discovered his ability, however, that all changed. When Zeke was merely a human, he was a much lower priority. He tried to keep playing, but it simply wasn't just a game anymore. Despite his caution, he eventually started showing up on the radar. Options dwindling, he fled to Brazil, a country in anarchy. With no organized government, Zeke could finally be free.
When he discovered his ability, however, that all changed. When Zeke was merely a human, he was a much lower priority. He tried to keep playing, but it simply wasn't just a game anymore. Despite his caution, he eventually started showing up on the radar. Options dwindling, he fled to Brazil, a country in anarchy. With no organized government, Zeke could finally be free.
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Zeke can create silvery projectiles made of his energy and control them to an extent. He can manipulate their shape, trajectory, velocity, and number, although generally this reduces their power. They are most potent at long range, past 100', but over time and distance they become much more difficult to control. Zeke's fingers will take on a metallic sheen whenever he uses his ability.
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A metallic gleam shot past broken glass and agape onlookers. It wove through the crowd, a serpent in pursuit, until it finally bit down on its prey: a man who'd just robbed a quaint little family store. He reminded Zeke of himself, or rather how he used to be, a lost soul with no direction. But that's not how it was now. Zeke watched quietly from the rooftops as the man collapsed on the pavement, another lance ready to make sure he wouldn't get away before the authorities arrived to put him in his place.
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The scene of blood and clamor below him fell away into a different image. Clean streets, gleaming skyscrapers, an exuberance in the air that betrayed the despair everything here was built upon. This was the most efficient system: only as many rules as necessary, only as many jobs as necessary, but most importantly, only as many people as necessary. The Promised Land can't be promised to everyone, you know, and the system that protects the weak at the expense of the strong can never build it.
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Aberration
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Zeke's stigma is basically his own perfectionism on steroids. "That's nowhere close to good enough." "Why do you have to try so hard for such a disappointing result?" "You're a failure and a disgrace." A lot of comparing himself to his peers and self-deprecation to the point of utter hopelessness.
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His paranoia
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